You know that jubilant feeling that comes with the return of your senses after a cold has recently ravaged your body? The pure joy of breathing a lungful of air, smelling the warmth of sunshine, and tasting the sweetness of honey once again. It is the ecstasy of
simply being alive that is so overwhelming your heart feels like it will burst!
Well, suddenly my senses were returned to me last Sunday! And I must say, what an
amazing gift it is to receive! I feel like I have had a cold for the last three years. Of course, I haven't really. Rather, upon the death of my Grandmother parts of me simply vanished along with her.
I recognised something was different on the weekend when, out of the blue, there came a yearning to get into the garden; a strong desire to create something using my own hands and imagination. It has been near three years to the day since I've taken any interest in gardening, apart from the usual request to prune roses when at my Mum and Dad's place or the
Escallonia hedge with my Mother-in-law. And, in fact, since the 5th of September 2007 I lay witness to the slow death of my beautiful cottage garden that had been so lovingly created for two years previous. Surprisingly it wasn't hard to watch, as the heat of the desert sun sucked the life out of the tender plants and the insidious grass destroyed the hardier ones. It wasn't hard because my garden reflected the state of my heart. Pillaged. Plundered. Dry. Desolate.
Although I cried over the loss of my Grandma, I have never once cried over the loss of my garden. My Mother-in-law tried to resurrect it last year, but the grass grew back more vigorously than before and even the roses couldn't compete. The only gardening I did involve myself in was to save the last remaining rose bushes and citrus trees. We still have them in pots here at the new house, which we moved into recently. So, after five years at our previous house all we left for the next occupants were four shade trees, some native shrubs and a good coverage of grass over the red dirt. I still can't cry over the loss of all those wonderful plants. But I
can remember the joy of picking bunches of herbs from the garden, the amazing pleasure of using our own lemons to make our favourite lemon and poppy seed muffins, as well as the spectacular sight and smell of gorgeous
Jude The Obscure rose blooms and those huge, white November lillies near the apple tree.
As yet, I can see no clear reason or reasons as to why my heart has suddenly opened up to want to create a garden. Perhaps it has been a gradual process. Or perhaps recent events, like my new
ideal job working three days a week in the education of young children, have something to do with it. Whatever the reason, I met this situation with an open embrace and set out at once to pursue my creative urges. I approached my partner with my ideas, which obviously took him by surprise, and instead of going through our usual planning process we simply decided to make a new garden. For this, I am truly thankful.
We planted five, pink rosemary shrubs along the driveway with an edging of the common Mondo grass. The girls planted out some wildflower seeds, which should sprout within the next few weeks. I am deeply pleased with the result of our efforts on the weekend, and find immense pleasure in watering this small patch of dirt every evening. In fact, I can't keep the smile off my face! :)
To whom it may concern: thank you for the gifts ... I will treasure them always.
